Abandoned Naval Dockyard
Gern Reginald Sigmar stood beside Kuzan on the armored deck of a decommissioned warship. Both of their fists were tightly wrapped in bandages, layer upon layer.
Nearby, Garp leaned casually against a cannon, sipping a drink.
"Twenty thousand times. Full power," he said lazily, his words slightly muffled. "If your fists aren't tough enough, you won't even survive one of mine."
Gern inhaled slowly and assumed his stance.
The first punch landed.
Boom!A dull, heavy impact echoed as a shallow dent formed in the armor plating.
Pain shot through his knuckles, sharp and biting—but he didn't stop.Second punch.Third.
By the three-hundredth strike, his bandages were soaked red.
By the five-hundredth, his knuckles were torn open, flesh split and trembling with every blow.
"Don't use Haki!" Garp suddenly barked. "Your Haki right now is just noise! Let me hear you roar!"
By the eight-hundredth punch, the metal plating had caved in nearly two inches.
"Bleeding just means you're still alive! If you're alive, you keep swinging!"
By the nine-thousand-five-hundredth strike, the entire armored plate was visibly warped.
"When Roger took this punch, he stood a hell of a lot steadier than you!"
The twentieth thousand punch—
BOOM!
Gern's fist blasted straight through the hull, the entire warship shuddering violently.
Kuzan stared in quiet surprise. He had trained with Garp far longer—yet Gern had surpassed expectations.
Panting heavily, Gern pulled back his fist. Garp walked over, inspected his mangled hands, and nodded in satisfaction.
"Not bad. You're finally starting to look the part."
"Remember—true Iron Fist strength isn't brute force. It's the fusion of will and Haki."
Gern stared at his ruined yet reborn hands, something clicking into place within him.
"Tomorrow," Garp said as he turned away, "we start real sparring."
Gern's smile froze.
The Next Day
A bitter wind howled across the training field. Frost blanketed the ground, and icy mist lingered in the air.
Gern stood at the center, wearing only a thin black sleeveless training shirt. His breath came out in white clouds.
Opposite him stood Kuzan, hands in his pockets, a lazy smile on his face.
"So… this is 'Logia defense training,' huh?" Gern chuckled. "Or are you just planning to torture me?"
"Ara ara," Kuzan replied lazily. "Relax. Just a little experience."
Zephyr stood off to the side, arms crossed.
"The rules are simple," he said sternly. "Kuzan will attack using his ice abilities. You must defend using Armament Haki alone—until you can neutralize his power."
"Neutralize a Logia…?" Gern's eyes widened.
"Can't do it?" Zephyr raised a brow. "Then when you face people like Kuzan or Sakazuki for real, you won't even get a chance to struggle."
Gern exhaled slowly, resolve settling in his eyes."I understand, Instructor."
"Here we go," Kuzan said lightly, lifting a finger.
A crystal of ice formed—and flicked outward.
Whish!
It burst midair into countless frozen needles that rained down like a storm.
Gern growled and activated his Armament Haki. The ice clattered harmlessly against his skin, ringing sharply.
"Not bad," Kuzan said. "But that's just the warm-up."
He clapped his hands together. Cold surged outward, ice spreading rapidly beneath Gern's feet.
"Don't stop!" Gern gritted his teeth, forcing Haki to keep flowing as the freezing cold tried to crawl into his bones.
But he quickly realized something terrifying—
Maintaining Haki against a Logia drained him far faster than expected.
"Haki isn't just coating your skin," Zephyr called out. "It has to circulate. Let it flow through your body like blood."
Gern adjusted his breathing, guiding the Haki inward, letting it pulse through his muscles and bones instead of sitting rigidly on the surface.
Kuzan's eyes flickered with interest.
"Oh? You're learning fast."
He raised his hand again.
"Ice Ball."
BOOM!
Countless frozen projectiles rained down, each carrying crushing cold.
"Ghh!" Gern grunted as his Haki wavered, frost biting through his defenses.
"Don't let it in!" Zephyr barked.
Gern roared, forcing his Haki outward once more—black lightning-like flickers rippling as the ice shattered around him.
Time dragged on.
Ten minutes…Fifteen…Twenty-five…
His arms trembled. His Haki flickered.
"Running out of steam?" Kuzan tilted his head. "Want to quit?"
"Heh…" Gern laughed hoarsely. "Keep going, you food-stealing ice bastard!"
His Haki flared again—this time tinged with a faint dark crimson.
Kuzan's eyes sharpened. "Oh? You're already touching the edge of Ryuo?"
(Whatever the Marines call it—it's the same thing.)
From the sidelines, Zephyr's lips curved faintly."So he's finally reached the threshold…"
"Thirty seconds left!" Zephyr shouted.
Kuzan's expression hardened. He slammed his palms onto the ground.
"Ice Age!"
A catastrophic wave of frost erupted outward, engulfing the field. Ice surged upward, trying to entomb Gern completely.
"AAAGH!" Gern roared as he forced his Haki to cycle again and again—freeze, shatter, freeze, shatter.
"Time's up!" Zephyr called.
Kuzan withdrew his power. The ice receded.
Gern dropped to one knee, steam rising from his body as his Haki faded. His breathing was ragged.
Zephyr stepped forward and nodded with approval.
"Pass."
Gern collapsed backward, laughing weakly."Kuzan… you totally took revenge just now."
"Tch." Kuzan plopped down beside him, waving a hand. "Hey, don't blame me. You gave me the excuse."